Features

The Crown Julia

At 22, Julia Roberts was Hollywood's Cinderella, the belle of the box office. Now she's back, newly married, with two upcoming movies. In a Vanity Fair exclusive, her first interview in two years, Julia tells KEVIN SESSUMS why she left the ball and how she found a prince named... Lyle?

October 1993 Kevin Sessums Herb Ritts Marina Schiano
Features
The Crown Julia

At 22, Julia Roberts was Hollywood's Cinderella, the belle of the box office. Now she's back, newly married, with two upcoming movies. In a Vanity Fair exclusive, her first interview in two years, Julia tells KEVIN SESSUMS why she left the ball and how she found a prince named... Lyle?

October 1993 Kevin Sessums Herb Ritts Marina Schiano

Not since Audrey Hepburn went lightly about her business in Breakfast at Tiffany's has an actress spun sex so effortlessly into gold. Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman may not have possessed Hepburn's unerring urbanity, but she shares the earlier star's once-upon-a-timeless quality of remaining magically innocent while pricking our most prurient interests. By turns childlike and sophisticated, Roberts is the kind of woman one longs to tuck in—late, late at night. There is a fairy-tale quality to her bedtime appeal.

Currently, Roberts is filming The Pelican Brief, based on John Grisham's best-seller. Alan Pakula, who guided Jane Fonda and Meryl Streep to best-actress Oscars (in, respectively, Klute and Sophie's Choice), is directing the film from his own screenplay. It is Roberts's character, Darby Shaw, a Tulane law student, who spurs on the plot after she discovers who is behind the murders of two Supreme Court justices. Sam Shepard plays her friendly law professor, Denzel Washington the D.C. newspaper reporter who cracks the story open.

"There is a nonthreatening appeal to Julia. She's boldly vulnerable," claims filmmaker Joe Roth, former chairman of Twentieth Century Fox, from the offices of his production company, Caravan Pictures, headquartered on the Disney lot. Roberts plans to shoot her follow-up film, I Love Trouble, Caravan's third feature, right after she finishes The Pelican Brief. "It's unbelievable that someone so physically beautiful could also have this 'everyperson' quality about her, but that's exactly why she's a movie star. It's the same quality that Costner has."


A romantic comedy about two Chicago newspaper reporters, I Love Trouble was written by Nancy Meyers and Charles Shyer (Baby Boom, Father of the Bride) and is to be directed by the latter. Nick Nolte will co-star. "This is a very Spencer Tracy-Katharine Hepburn kind of film, very Pat and Mike-ish," Roth explains, then deadpans, "Julia Roberts in a romantic comedy? I think it might work."

Roberts is obviously getting her career back in gear after a rapid-fire succession of films (Mystic Pizza, Steel Magnolias, Pretty Woman, Flatliners, Dying Young, Sleeping with the Enemy, and Hook) made her America's most popular— and bankable—actress. She got so hot so fast that she was satirized in Robert Altman's hip parody of the film business, The Player, as the one star whose presence in a movie guaranteed a studio green light. In the film and in real executive suites all over Hollywood, she was the one the moguls wanted for everything. Her name hummed through the hills like a mantra. But even though her cameo at the end of The Player proved she still had the energy to laugh at her predicament, Roberts was exhausted. For the last two years, she has just bided her time, and Hollywood's been happy to wait. She's still that sought-after.

"Look, I don't have anything against anybody, no matter what anybody has ever said, done, or written.... But lets call a truce"

She was, after all, in her early 20s when stardom hit—a relatively recent emigrant from Smyrna, Georgia, the daughter of parents who ran a drama workshop. Fresh out of high school, she moved to New York City to join her older siblings, Lisa and actor Eric Roberts. Her first job was selling pizza; later she sold sneakers in an Athlete's Foot store, but she quickly started getting work as an actress. Suddenly, she was living in transit from film to film.

"She needed this time off. Deserved it,'' director Joel Schumacher insists when he calls me from the set of his next film, The Client, based on yet another Grisham novel. Schumacher is the only director to have worked with Roberts on two of her films—Flatliners and Dying Young. "If she had kept up her professional pace, then people would have accused her of being a workaholic. You can't win. I mean, though she's sophisticated in many, many ways now, she's still so very young, and needed some time to herself so she could grow up a bit. People always think of Julia as being beautiful or sexy or talented, but what they miss is how extremely bright she is. Taking this time off was the smartest thing she could do. Sometimes we all need to stop and smell the.. . whatever. It was quite a roller-coaster ride for her to go—almost instantly—from this talented young actress who was doing her work to the Biggest Box-Office Star in the World. God bless her. She needed to get her soul into perspective. She has.''

Indeed, Roberts walked away from her much-discussed romances with more style and spirit than anyone gave her credit for. But it was all Elizabeth Taylor-made for tabloid headlines and kicked off the bad-press penance she has had to pay for her success. Loads of stories started making the rounds, and the papers seemed to be printing just about anything. Angry—and feeling betrayed—she turned silent toward reporters. The public began to wonder if something might be wrong.

Nothing could have been farther from the truth. Julia Roberts is simply that earthy kind of southern gal—so often misrepresented as a misfit—who can outclass the stuck-up sorority sisters while she's off at the fraternity, having a grand of time with the brothers. The only time bullshit could possibly be found in her life would be if it were on the bottom of her frequently bare feet.

And now Roberts is back with a vengeance. She's even shocked the world by marrying the coolest country singer alive, Mr. Lyle Lovett. After the public scrutiny of her past love affairs, there was poetic justice in her ability to pull off a wedding in the middle of Indiana without the press. In fact, I had spent time with her only 36 hours before the wedding took place and, proving what a wonderful actress she really is, she did not blink when I brought up the possibility that she was dating Lovett.

"So. You must be a pretty good poker player," I teased her when she called me from the set of The Pelican Brief the week after her marriage.

"No," she said, laughing, "I'm not a cardplayer."

"Did you already know about the wedding and have it planned when we spoke the other day? I mean, it was only a day and a half before it happened."

"No. Well, I knew certain things, but the core of it was spur-of-the-moment."

"Are you going to go on a honeymoon at some point? He's touring; you're filming. When will you work one in?"

"Oh, life is a honeymoon, Kevin."

"Put that on a bumper sticker and stick it on the back of the pickup truck you and Lyle are bound to buy together."

"That's right," she agreed, still laughing. "Life Is a Honeymoon!"

"So how long have you two really known each other?"

"Oh, we had only taken flight over the last little while. I think that certainly fate and timing played a large part in this whole thing. He's just wonderful. He's just a wonderful person. I couldn't be luckier or happier."

"Did any of your family make it to Indiana for the wedding?"

"Yeah. My mom and my sisters. They're very happy for me."

"Let me ask you something. Did the fact that I came down to talk to you—you know, yet another son-of-a-bitch press person—and asked you about Lyle Lovett have anything to do with your decision to just go ahead and get married? Was it like, Shit! Here we go again. I don't want to put up with this. Let's just get married and get all this over with."

"Yeah. In a way."

"You mean, Vanity Fair and I can take credit for your marriage?"

"It's funny. We both were just giddy and wanted to get together and get married. Certainly, as an afterthought, you go, Let's do it now! We love each other. We want to spend our lives together. This way things are calm and quiet and we can do it the way we want to do it without any influences from anybody else. The only downside to it was that I have a handful of really good friends and I didn't have time to arrange for them to come. That, I'll always be sorry about. But you can only do so much when you have limited time. But heck! We'll just keep gettin' married!"

For the record, here's what led up to our initial conversation about Lyle Lovett, those 36 hours before the wedding. I had arranged to meet Roberts in a suite at the Jefferson Hotel in Washington, D.C., on her day off from filming The Pelican Brief, and though it was early in the morning and she had no makeup on and her hair was unkempt, she was still extraordinarily beautiful. At one point we took a break from the interview so we each could go to the bathroom, and when I returned she was applying lip balm to that amazing mouth of hers.

"I had an enormous crush on President Lincoln. I'm glad that passed."

"Better be careful," I teasingly warned her. "If those lips get chapped, it could qualify as a catastrophic illness under Hillary's new health plan."

"You've got a pretty good pair of lips there yourself, Kevin."

"Yeah, well, I was a beautiful black woman in a former life. Proud of it. If you had to choose who or what you were in a former life, who or what would it have been?"

"Oh my God! Let's see. . .what do I realistically believe I would have been or who would I want to have been?"

"Both."

"Let's see..." Roberts contemplated. "Realistically I believe I was probably a farmer somewhere—probably in Russia."

"A male farmer or a female farmer?"

"I'm inclined to think male."

"Why Russia?" I asked.

"Oh... I don't know. I'm just thinking someplace. . .remote."

"More remote than Smyrna?"

"Yeah. That ain't easy. . . Who would I have liked to have been? Mmmm...I don't know. Maybe Nietzsche. Or Pablo Neruda."

"Good God! Why those two?"

Roberts let loose with one of her robust laughs. "Oh. . .just to think interesting things all day long would be so. . .fabulous!"

"You've picked all men," I told her.

"Yeah. I just thought about that."

"Well, you are famous for all the men that you've dated."


Roberts banked her voice off the memory of Bankhead, another kind of broadly southern belle. "That's not why I'm famous, honey," she moaned.

"All right: you're famous because you're a good actress. I know that. You're infamous for the actors that you've fucked," I challenged, trying to shock a response from her. Roberts flashed her eyes at me the way she can flash them on-screen when someone has gotten her attention. Seduction lay in her unshockable stare; she cocked her head and waited. "The latest rumor concerns you and Lyle Lovett. Is there any truth to you and Lyle?"

Again, her Bankhead voice: "Honey, there is truth to everything you read." She laughed, then seemed to be lost in a scramble of secret thoughts. "That's so funny," she finally said. Her voice, now childlike, had lost all sophistication. "Infamous for the people that I fuck: I'll always remember those words, Kevin. You know, this really interests me. I have not learned, unfortunately, in my 25 years how to create the balance, of my work and my personal life. I have at times lent to that imbalance and I have at times not dealt with that imbalance well. But the greater aspect of it is people's inability to accept that one is private and one is public. ... I can make jokes or whatever, but I don't have to make jokes and I don't have to deal with this... crap... because regardless of how many things have been written about me in the last two years I haven't said anything."

"So is that a yes or a no that you're seeing Lyle Lovett?"

"That's funny. . . mean, I do know Lyle. He played here in D.C. and a whole bunch of us went. We went on this big bus because there were about 25 of us from the crew. And you know how they always have the destination spelled out on the front of those buses? Ours said: LOST. It just seemed so perfect."

KEVIN SESSUMS: Is this your first time in Washington?

JULIA ROBERTS: I came here for vacation with my family when I was seven, and, funny enough, of all the places that I visited on childhood vacations, Washington had a profound effect on me, I had an enormous crush on President Lincoln at that point in my life—I'm glad that passed.

K.S. Who was president when you were seven?

J.R. I was seven in 1974. So it must have been Ford.

K.S. From a Lincoln to a Ford. That's a summing-up.

J.R. I wish it had been Lincoln. I can actually remember my father explaining to me about the Lincoln Memorial and that he was buried there and how they had dug him up to check to see that he was still there before they put him in the ground with the cement and the whole thing. I asked why they had looked to see if he was in there and he said to see if someone had taken him. And I said, "What kind of kooky freak would do that?" It was my father who first explained to me how people were strange.

K.S. A crush on Abraham Lincoln, huh?

J.R. Well, he had a great face. That face is a great face. And that face in stone down at the Lincoln Memorial is a pretty amazing thing to see. It's just breathtaking. He's so stoic and regal and at the same time has this real gentleness. Listen to me talking about Lincoln... this is ridiculous. ...

K.S. Sounds like you're describing Lyle Lovett—who could kinda be Lincoln in a musical if Roy Orbison had written one.

J.R. You're not too far off the base there. Obviously there's a theme. .mmmm... stoic, regal, gentle... that could be Lyle.

K.S. You've said in the past that you don't like to talk about your personal politics, because you don't want it to interfere with the audience's perception of your work, but on the spectrum of downhome Georgia politics from, say, the political bedmates Sam Nunn and Lester Maddox on one end and Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter on the other, where would you place yourself?

J.R. Certainly I have very specific views about politics and religion. I do think that everybody is different and everybody has a right to their opinions whether I concur with them or not. But it can be a bit of a handicap. It's difficult enough ... people have so much to get over anyway with me, so I'm just not going to add to it.

K.S. What do you mean by that?

J.R. By virtue of the spin that the press likes to put on my life.... Probably 80 percent of it is just pure fiction. So people walk in with these preconceived notions and these rumors in their heads and I think that you can't help but look and say to yourself, "Oh, yeah. . .she does look a little bit thin," or whatever it is. So I think that's enough for them to get over.

K.S."Thin" means drug use, right?

J.R. Yes! Thin equals drug use! Of course! Doesn't everybody know that?

K.S. So say it!

J.R. But they say I'm too thin for all kinds of reasons. Then if I wear a baggy dress, I'm pregnant. You just can't win with these people. It's just silly. The fact is that I don't use, nor have I ever used, drugs.

K.S. Never? You've never even tried drugs? Ever? Come on. Be honest with me, Julia.

J.R. I'm scared of drugs. I'm a big chicken. That's why I can have a sense of humor about all this, because I know that deep down inside I'm a chicken. I have this great energy anyway and I always think that my head would blow off my shoulders or something. I mean, I'm curious about it. I've talked to people about it. I've heard other people's drug stories and am fascinated by them.

K.S. You must have been around them in your professional life. Show business is full of drugs.

J.R. I'm around people who've done them, but I'm not really around a drug scene. When the rumors first surfaced, I was just shocked because it seemed so ridiculous. Then it just became absurd. Then it went into a kind of surreal thing that took on a life of its own that didn't have anything to do with me. The fact is that I don't know why people want to think that I'm good or bad or a drug addict or whatever. Finally, though, why protest it? What is the point of saying, "No, you're wrong!'' Who cares? If they want to believe it, they'll believe it. If they don't want to believe it, they won't believe it. I'm not out to change anybody's mind. I'm not out to do anything but do my work. Go see my movies and like them or don't like them. Let's change the subject. This is boring.

K.S. O.K. Back to the simpler subject of politics. Your first role was portraying Elizabeth Dole.

"We both were just giddy and wanted to get together and get married.... We love each other."

J.R. That wasn't really a role. That was in my high-school civics class. We did a mock convention so people could really understand the process. A certain few of us were the candidates who ran for president and, yes, I was Elizabeth Dole. This is how crazy my high school was: when all was said and done my friend Kevin Hester, who was George Bush, was elected as president, and I, as Elizabeth Dole, was vice president.

K.S. What was the key to being Elizabeth Dole?

J.R. Well, wearing a dress was key. Wearing shoes was also key. That really impresses a group.

K.S. The press seemed to cheer your stardom early on, like it seemed to cheer for President Clinton toward the end of the campaign last fall. Yet now Washington reporters seem to want to destroy him with bad publicity in the same way that Hollywood reporters seem to have tried to destroy your reputation during the last couple of years.

J.R. That's just the way of the world, unfortunately. I wouldn't necessarily compare myself with the president, though. [Laughs.] I would never be that bold. I think it's just a sort of syndrome concerning public situations today. It just seems to be a trend that that's how it goes. It's peaks and valleys forced by the press. ... I was thinking about this last night. It's almost as if people are bothered by the fact that I can actually lead a life without making movies. 

K.S. Example.

J.R. I was walking down the street one day to go and get a newspaper and I was followed by this van and this man with a video camera was filming me. This popped up on TV a few days later. I mean, I'm going to get the paper and it's early in the morning and I have my hair pulled back and I have on some little dress or whatever. This woman on the television had the nerve to be completely obsessed by how I looked. Now, I don't have a clue what she looks like when she's going to get the paper, but I seriously doubt it is the same as she does on television. She was saying, "Julia, I have the name of a great hairdresser." I thought, Well, why should I do my hair to go and get a paper on the off chance that somebody is going to videotape it and put it on TV? It just made me curious as to what kind of profound thoughts this woman could ever have if this was something she thinks is key, that this is newsworthy.

K.S. You seem to be one step removed from being mad about it.

J.R. I was never even really mad about it. I think it just took my breath away for a minute.

K.S. Everything must have taken your breath away for a minute once you hit as a movie star.

J.R. What's interesting was. . .the sort of trickle-down effect of everything. One particular weekend, the weekend that Pretty Woman opened, was also the weekend before the Oscars when I was nominated for Steel Magnolias—and I was also filming Sleeping with the Enemy at the same time. So I had come to Los Angeles to go to the Oscars and do that whole thing and it was exciting and fun. I had never been before. Then the movie came out and I was on the way to the airport and I got these phone messages from my agent, Elaine Goldsmith, that Pretty Woman had done well and had great numbers, which meant nothing to me. I went, Oh, that's fine, whatever that means. [Laughs.] I didn't have a clue! Then I went back to work. Pretty Woman didn't come to the town I was working in while I was there. Everything was going on and becoming whatever it was becoming and I was just working and completely unaware of it. It was sort of nice, in that it passed me by a little bit.I wasn't there for the moment-to-moment rise of this movie, which was probably a real blessing because I maintained a selfness of just being a girl and working and making movies instead of being in the whirlwind of activity of this movie and what was happening with it. Every couple of days, Elaine would call and give the reports on the movie's status. It was hard to believe what she was telling me, because I wasn't there to experience it. That lent a lot of relief to what could have been a heady situation for me.

K.S. But you are an example of the packaging that goes on in the movie business when people are turned into products. That red dress you wore in Pretty Woman was as red as a Campbell's tomato-soup can.

J.R. What's nice is that by the time anybody could ever decide to refer to me as a product—and you're the only person who has the nerve to do it to my face. . .

K.S. I don't mean to insult you.